


Fighting it is futile

by orphan_account



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Drug Abuse, Experimentation, F/M, Heavy Angst, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Kidnapping, M/M, Psychological Torture, Shock, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Orihara Izaya had been kidnapped, and Shizuo Heiwajima had recently gone missing. After numerous reports of criminal activity in Ikebukuro the city is exploding in fear. How will Izaya escape this torturous prison and what will happen with Shizuo?





	1. Curiosity Killed The Cat

In the middle of the night, Ikebukuro’s infamous information broker was cheerfully skipping through the dimly lit streets. After a full day of work without any complications Izaya was feeling quite good about himself, finally being done with a troublesome week of trying to get some sort of valuable information on a certain gang leader and managing to do a decent job on it deserved some sort of celebration. In was too bad he didn’t really have any friends to celebrate with. But alas, such trivial things weren’t going to diminish Izaya’s good mood.

After some thinking about what he wanted to do and where exactly he wanted to celebrate he decided to just go home and sleep instead. After all, such tiring work would make anyone sleepy. While walking down the streets and looking at his surrounding Izaya noticed something strange. 

In the midst of bright and non-menacing cars that were speeding through the town there was a dark and big black van. It was moving very slowly, too slowly at that. It didn’t look like it was going anywhere, it looked as if it was following someone. Suspicion rose up in Izaya’s mind. About who, or what, was driving that van and what it wanted. 

Izaya considered just leaving whoever was driving alone and going home, but he figured stalking a potential murderer was much more interesting. Running behind a building and putting his hood up, Izaya looked onward as a man stepped out of the menacing vehicle. 

He was around average build and height, not very scary looking at all, and Izaya thought that maybe he was just being paranoid and that in his tired state he mistook something entirely normal for something much more extreme. Shrugging and loudly exhaling Izaya pulled down his hood in disappointment and stepped back out onto the sidewalk. 

Sparing one last glance at the van Izaya was quite surprised to see the back door slightly shaking and he could’ve sworn he heard a noise coming from it. After having his interest piqued once again, Izaya quietly shuffled across the busy traffic and across the street. After getting close to the source of the noise, he pressed his ear to the locked door and listened as much as he could. While focusing on the noise, and the noise only, he didn’t even feel it when a cold, long needle was jabbed straight into the side of his neck.

But when he did, in fact, feel some sort of thick liquid being injected into his unsuspecting body, he turned around so fast that the needle was painfully janked out of his neck. Squinting from the pain, Izaya looked at his attacked. There, in front of him, was standing a person with a mask on their face. They looked surprised, like they weren’t expecting Izaya to notice them so quickly.

Desperate to run away and not potentially get killed, Izaya tries running down the street. Foggy thoughts fill his dizzy brain, things like: “Why is nobody noticing this psycho attacking me?” and “What did he inject into me?”. While running at a full sprint, Izaya’s attempt at escaping turned against him fairly quickly. While the drug took over his weak and tired body, he ran into an ally-way in-between two large buildings and collapsed against the wall behind it.

He tried to gather himself up and run away, fearing that he didn’t run far enough and fearing he might get caught. Staring at the starry night sky and attempting not to lose consciousness he thought about the fact that he can’t possibly run away now. He’s drugged and boxed into a corner in the middle of the night, even if he did run away he would probably just pass out and be left on the streets. Without even knowing what that drug was he could die because of it. It could be a safe drug that won’t harm him, but it could also be some sort of poison designed to kill him. If it wasn’t, he would be left lounging on the sidewalk and would probably get robbed. Not like anyone cares about him, after all, he has more enemies than he could possibly count.

While on the subject of enemies, Izaya wondered what that brutish monster would do if he found him lying there. He would probably just finish him off and leave like the cold, heartless monster he was. Thinking about it, when exactly was the last time he had seen Shizu-chan? He hasn’t seen him even once since he started his latest job request. 

It was unusual to not see him at all for so long, maybe he went somewhere? Maybe he’s sick? As if the strongest man in Ikebukuro would be restricted by some petty disease. His immune system would shred it to bits the second it even tries to make him ill. It seemed like this was some sort of record, because they would always, no matter the time, somehow run into each other. No exceptions.

While lost in thought, Izaya slid down the cold, hard wall and sat down on the concrete. All the thoughts left his head and he slouched in on himself, head resting on his raised knees. With his body collapsing and his mind losing consistency, he was ready to give up, to put himself in the cold hands of the world and sleep this whole incident off like it was some sort of bad dream.

While slowly closing his eyes Izaya noticed a shadow in the corner of his restricted, blurry vision. With the last of his might he looked towards the dark looming figure and hoped, prayed that someone was there to save him. It really was unfortunate that the person standing there was wearing a bright mask, a half empty, broken syringe in their left hand.

The last thing Izaya saw before his vision faded to black was the figure tilting its head to the side and slowly walking towards his body, syringe in hand and up to the sky. Shutting his eyes and falling into a dark abyss, he hoped that he would just be left alone to die on his own, with no troublesome interferences to slow his descent.


	2. Revelation

When Izaya woke up the first thing he saw was a white tiled floor and the flickering shadows of a light at the top of the ceiling. Blinking a couple of times and looking around himself to see just in what kind of situation he was, he was surprised to see that the room he was in didn’t look as menacing as he thought it would be. 

He was in an all-white room with barely any significantly eye-catching furniture. The only things in it was a small wooden coffee table with a glass of water and some bread on it, a bed without pillows and bed sheets, a shelf filled with miscellaneous books by varied writers and a lonely old chair in the corner of the room.

Suddenly thinking about the fact that his stomach was practically eating itself at the time and how he hasn’t eaten in what seemed like days, Izaya attempted to crawl towards the table. Trying to drag his half-asleep body along the cold floor, he got closer and closer to the food and raised his hand up to it, reaching out to the bare piece of bread seated in front of him. Just as his hand was just inches away from it, Izaya was tugged back by some sort of restraint that seemed to be holding him back.

He turned around to see it and found himself staring at a long silver chain embedded into the white wall, the metal rattling whenever he moved around, even by just a bit. He was disappointed in himself for not noticing it sooner, but blamed his horrible observation skills on the fact that he was drugged not too long ago. 

Sitting back down onto the floor, Izaya looked at the locked door in front of him, mentally preparing himself for what’s to come out of it. Squinting his eyes half-shut, he waited to hear the loud jingle of keys but instead only heard the faint rattle of the chains behind him as he tried moving away from the door.

Breathing out a shaky exhale and relaxing once again, he figured he’d better not waste time being paranoid and instead try to figure out how to free himself. He looked around his back, once again, but to no avail, it seemed as if only some sort of tool would be able to dislocate the chains as it didn’t seem like there were key holes anywhere.

Except there were screws holding the metal plates to the wall and they didn’t seem to be too strong, but as weak as he was Izaya had almost no chance of tearing it out of the wall. After all, he was no Shizuo. The only way he would be able to pry it apart would be to unscrew it with a screwdriver. But he didn’t have one at hand, so that would mean he would have to come in contact with his kidnapper if he wanted one.

There didn’t seem to be anything of interest anywhere else, the bed was as empty as could be and all the other furniture was also stripped clear of any significant things that could aid his escape. The only thing that wasn’t empty was the bookcase, but that was so far away that even if he tried to get close to it he wouldn’t be able to touch it at all.

But he might be able to see its contents, it’s better than nothing. Slowly standing up, Izaya walked as close to the shelf as he could, focusing his eyes at the books in front of him it didn’t seem too suspicious or out of place. But if he was kidnapped, then why on earth would he need books? Ones that were out of reach no less? It just seemed odd to him, so he tried analyzing them. They seemed to be placed in order of color instead of the typical alphabetical order people usually put them in. 

After brief moments of frustration, he noticed something that seemed out of place. While all of the blue books held the same author, there was one different one, the book was titled “The Dead Zone” and it looked lighter than all the other ones. It would’ve made more sense if it was at the beginning of the row, but it was directly in the middle of the books. 

As Izaya pulled his chains so hard that he faintly heard his wrists cracking from the force, he got closer and saw that the book was slightly poking out of all the other ones. While the other books were pressed directly against the wooden board behind them, this one seemed to be intentionally sticking out.

It seemed like the cliché “Secret Passage” route, but it really was Izaya’s only way of escape. But even if he pulled as hard as he could the chains wouldn’t move and it only resulted in hurting and possibly dislocating his arms. He had no choice but to wait.

So, as he retreated back towards the wall and back to his original resting place, he looked back onto his options. First he would somehow have to get a screwdriver off of his kidnapper and then he would have to push the book he saw in hopes that it really would reveal a secret passage and that it wasn’t just some sort of misplaced book with no meaning.

And then what? Run?

Where? If there was a way to go where would that lead? Underground? But then he would just find himself even more lost and desperate than he already was. Maybe he should focus on getting out of the door in front of him, but that might also be a dead end. Who knows how long this place even was, or where it was for that matter.

He would just have to hope to get a grand tour of it soon enough, if he doesn’t get killed that is. Maybe there were more people here with him. Looking at the door it looked similar to doors in hospitals. Maybe this was some sort of facility, probably kidnapping people to use them in some way.

Speaking of hospitals, that guy chasing him had a mask similar to those surgeon operating masks, and he was also dragging random syringes with him. And that just made Izaya even more convinced this was some sort of research facility. He wondered when people would come to see him, who else got taken, what would they do to him and what was their motive for it.

But there was no point in jumping to conclusions so early, he needed to see so much more to be convinced that his theory was correct and not just some petty form of overthinking things. 

Leaning his head against the wall, Izaya looked at the flickering light bulb above him. Just why did he have to go towards that damn van? Why couldn’t he just go home as he wanted to in the first place? Now his curiosity is going to get him killed.  
As he thought about all the things that happened to him in the span of just a couple of hours, or even days, Izaya was surprised by just how calm he was taking this. Maybe all the times he got kidnapped by random gangs dulled down his sense of panic. And considering the fact not even Shizuo Heiwajima, strongest man in Ikebukuro was able to beat him, he was feeling pretty confident he would be able to get away from the people who did this.

But the problem was, Izaya always knew his attackers on a personal level so he was able to manipulate them rather easily, but now he had absolutely no idea just who and what he is about to be facing. 

When a sudden feeling of uneasiness hit him, Izaya reached down into the pocket of his black fur coat expecting to find his pocket knife safely tucked into it. But to his surprise, it was completely empty, without a trace of his signature weapon to be found.

So now he’s stranded in the middle of nowhere without a way to defend himself? Well isn’t that just splendid, huh?

At least he knew that being cocky wasn’t going to get him anywhere in this situation. Putting his forehead on his knees, he closed his eyes and decided to take a rest. Straining himself now wasn’t going to do him any good, it would really be best if he were to rest a bit and hope that nothing would happen to him when he was sleeping.

The second he felt as if he was dosing off into a mildly comfortable slumber, a noise could be heard in front of the door.

It was the dreaded noise of keys jingling together as they were being slid into the lock on Izaya’s door. The sound of a twisting motion could be heard, and the door unlocked. Fearing who might be standing in the doorway, he closed his eyes shut and anticipated what was to come.

As a squeak could be heard, and the faint sound of footsteps could be heard, everything felt as if it was being ripped apart. The calmness was replaced with a tense atmosphere and the door was closed shut.

Izaya could only hope this wouldn’t be his last day alive.


	3. Mister Mystery

“Well, well. Just what do we have here?” A man’s voice could be heard from across the room.

Izaya’s whole body shook with anticipation, fearing what this mysterious man is capable of doing to him. Not exactly wanting to face the person in front of him, he buried his face further into his knees and pretended not to hear anything the man was saying.

“Quite the silent type, huh? Considering how much trouble you’ve been causing you don’t seem as scary as people make you out to be.” His voice went from being menacing to sound as if it was mocking or teasing Izaya. He detested it, the only reason he wasn’t beating the shit out of him was because he didn’t want to get killed, not because he was some no-life coward.

“Hmpf, if you’re not going to talk then I guess I’ll have to make you.” The sound of shoes tapping against tiles was filling the confined room. As the sound go closer Izaya tried resisting the overwhelming curiosity to look up. 

He wanted to know what kind of sick psycho was keeping him captive, but at the same time he thought if he were to raise his head his face might become injured, and he might be drugged again. So instead of looking up, he opened his legs up a bit so he could peek between them, in hopes of seeing something. But the only thing that his eyes could reach were his legs. 

As expected, there wasn’t much to see, there were only plain black shoes and black pants. It was normal attire for anyone really, it wouldn’t indicate much but something’s better than nothing, right?

When the sound of the footsteps became so near that he could practically feel the man’s shadow looming over his chained body, Izaya took a deep breath and awaited what’s next. The sound came to a stop and the person above him crouched down to meet his compressed form. Chills ran down his spine as he could feel the traces of breathing at the top of his head.

Suddenly, an arm reached up to Izaya’s head. Slipping past the slight crack in his legs, the arm grabbed him by the chin and forcefully pulled his head up. He tried fighting back but of course, there was no escape. It was useless to try to fight, so he decided to let his head be raised. 

“Open your eyes.” The man whispered, sounding slightly agitated. Like he was expecting something completely different. Tightening his grip on the shaking figure beneath him, the man began turning Izaya’s head around in different angles, like he was examining him in some way. After a small humming noise was heard he raised his head even higher and dug his fingers so hard into Izaya’s chin he could almost feel his skin caving in.

“I said open them.” Squinting hard and violently shaking his head he refused to comply with anything the man said. While still scared he wouldn’t back down so easily, there was no way he would be forced to submit to that sicko.

“Fine then.”

The hand than was grabbing him just seconds ago was gone in a short moment. The feeling of pressure on his face replaced by a slight burning sensation on the spot where fingers were pressed against his face. The sudden way his face was let go of, Izaya accidentally slammed his head onto his knees, hitting himself hard in the forehead. Hissing in pain, he ignored the throbbing feeling in the back of his skull and looked at the man’s feet once again.

That very second the exact same pair of feet turned around and walked back towards the door, opening it, getting out and shutting it. Like nothing had happened. Izaya opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the immediate brightness of the room he was being kept in.

Recollecting himself in a sudden rush of adrenaline he noticed that the door was, in fact, slightly cracked open and not locked as he first suspected it to be. Seeing his chance to escape, he ran towards the door as fast as he could, breaking out into a small sprint towards the light emitted from the small opening.

Izaya’s bones cracked as he was violently hauled back by the chains keeping him bound to the wall, his hands going behind his body, causing him to lose balance and subsequently smack into the cold ,hard floor face first. The next thing he felt was a liquid running down the side of his face, it didn’t hurt at first, the adrenaline from just seconds ago dulling it to a small stinging.

But after a couple of seconds of lying there, after he tried rolling over onto his back, a sharp acute pain filled all of his senses and the whole room went red. He couldn’t feel, see or hear. No, everything was replaced by a stabbing pain straight to his head. The blood was rushing out of his skull and onto the tiles bellow him.

He started screaming, not caring about anything anymore. He didn’t care about escape, about what was going to happen to him, all that he could think about was how he wanted this agony to end already.

As he was rolling around the floor, somehow managing to get up on his knees and cover his head wound, Izaya started crying. The tears mixing with his blood and running down his hands and onto his coat, matting the fur around his arms and turning it a sickly crimson color.

He wept into his hand, trying to put pressure on his head hoping that it would just cease to hurt and would stop bleeding so that he could be able to see. For a second he thought he was going to die. That he wasn’t going to be able to go on, that he’ll just bleed out onto the floor and be left there.

But of course, there’s just no way someone as valuable as him would be left alone that easily, right? Maybe he should ask that to the person watching him from the doorway at this very moment.


	4. Ambiguous Helper

“Help me.” Izaya choked out, sobbing onto the now bloodied floor. He looked at the man standing above him, reaching his hand towards him as if trying to keep him from leaving. It’s the first time he’d properly seen the man, finally breaking down and not caring about appearances, just wanting to get help for his bleeding head.

Without saying a work, the man went out of the room and into a dark hallway, leaving Izaya to suffer alone. Of course he wouldn’t get help, why would a person who abducted you offer you mercy? Why had he even thought he would get help? Is he that desperate? That he’s willing to ask for some psychos help?

After lying on the floor for what felt like hours, there was a noise coming from behind the half open door. He couldn’t quite make it out, the buzzing inside his head overpowering anything coming from the outside world. When he opened his heavy lidded eyes, the first thing he saw was a shadow. There was someone blurry above him, someone with red hair and what looked like goggles.

There was a nametag on the persons white robe, but he couldn’t read it well. While trying to make out if he had seen this person before, something was pressed against his neck. It was cold and wet, and smelled like alcohol. But before Izaya could get confused or attempt to ask what was happening , a long, cold needle was already inside his neck.

While quizzically staring into the dark eyes of the person above him, he closed his eyes and witnessed the excruciating world finally fade to black. All the pain he was feeling vanishing and fading into thin air.

When he woke up, he was on a bed. He wasn’t covered in anything, he wasn’t dressed differently, and the fur of his coat was now matted with his dry, putrid smelling blood. Curious as to what happened to his head, Izaya reached his hand up only to feel a bandage wrapped all around his skull. The spot where he got hit was slightly moist but other than that, it only hurt a bit.

Looking around he saw that he was still inside his room. The blood from the floor wasn’t cleaned and was instead left there, a horrid smell emitting from the dried up puddle sprawled across the floor. The place where his chain shackles were, was empty, except a small square like shape outlined on the wall, on each corner a small hole. Probably where the screws were. 

Looking down at himself, Izaya noticed he was shackled to the bed, long thin chains hanging from each of his limbs. Every chain on a different leg of the bed. While fighting back the pain in his head and upper neck, he looked down onto his torso where he could see a big metal plate placed above his hips, keeping him in place. 

Like the chains on the wall, the plate was screwed into the bed. It was most likely a safety method, after all, just having 4 small chains wouldn’t be very “escape proof”. Wiggling around, he noticed his chain was just as long as the one he had before, if not a few centimeters longer. Maybe these people just couldn’t bother to cut them.

Behind him was the bookcase, it was just in arms length of him, but he would only be able to reach it if he were to free himself from the metal plate that was keeping him in place, the chains on his legs only about an inch shorter than the ones on his arms. If he got it off he would be able to not only reach for the bookcase but to also possibly free his hands and feet.

While trying to clear his head and think about what to do first, Izaya came up with an idea. Maybe he could get the bed closer to the bookcase by wiggling towards it. Since the chains were long enough to let his legs reach the floor, he could push the bed by using his legs.

Trying to execute the small goal he set for himself, he managed to plant his legs onto the floor, and with some violent thrashing move the bed slightly backwards. All the excessive movement was hurting his injured head, but he wasn’t ready to give up just now.

With some more struggling he got halfway towards it when he started getting impatient. He started moving so much that the bed was practically bouncing off of the floor. With all that force, one of his movements sent his head backwards and onto the headboard.

He let out a pained screech that made him stop dead in his tracks. It hurt so bad that the corners of his vision started to blacken. But the fact that he was so close kept him moving forward. After move movement filled with pain and agony was over, Izaya took a small break to catch his breath and calm the throbbing pain in his head.

The sound of walking made him widen his eyes in surprise. It sounded like two people walking in front of his room door. The fact he was closer to the door now made him able to hear their conversation if he strained his ears hard enough.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” A woman’s voice said, sounding slightly worried and concerned about whoever she was talking about.

“Of course, a pest like him won’t die that easily.” Unlike the woman, this man’s voice sounded ice cold. Like he had said that same line thousands of times before, like he was used to it.

“That was a pretty serious injury, sir.” Sir? Perhaps she was an underling of the man, some sort of assistant maybe? She still sounder sad, like one of her friends was in trouble, or as if her pet got mauled by other animals.

“It was just a head injury, stop worrying.” Head injury? Were they talking about him? It could be possible, but then again who knew how many people were injured in this godforsaken place, if there even were more people here.

“But he was bleeding pretty hard, I saw it.” 

“You didn’t have to bother, I could’ve taken care of it.” Taken care of it? If by ‘taking care’ of something he meant ‘leaving someone to bleed out on the fucking floor’ the yes, he took fantastic ‘care’ of it.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”


End file.
